


The Full Spectrum

by silentflux



Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-04
Updated: 2007-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentflux/pseuds/silentflux





	The Full Spectrum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bjjones](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=bjjones).



_**FIC: The Full Spectrum, CSI:Miami, Speed/H**_  
And here's the next one...

Title: The Full Spectrum  
Author: Andrea  
Fandom: CSI: Miami  
Pairing: H/Speed  
Rating: FRM  
Warnings:A/N: For Bev, our illustrious clanleader

*~*~*

He couldn’t see. The blackness of the smooth fabric blinded him to the world – darkness surrounded him until every swirl of air that shivered along his skin, every rustle of cloth and soft footfall on thick carpet that he strained to hear seemed to grow exponentially – taste and sound and touch filling the void of blackness.

His harsh breathing deafened him; the roped and knotted restraints prevented him from moving even as their tautness calmed him, forcing the tension and unbearable weight from his shoulders in increments.

The fingers that brushed ever so lightly down his side made his muscles twitch in anticipation – desire – as he gasped at the sudden sensation, skin tingling, warming and cooling as the touch remained light and lazy.

Breath coming in pants, the effort of trying not to let go, of staying in control…if – he just needed…touch him, damn it!

“I am touching you,” came the husky amused tone. God, had he said that out loud? His cock ached between his legs, throbbing with need and neglect.

“Please,” he murmured helplessly, trying to shift as he searched for friction and moaning when the restraints held him in place. He whimpered when the delicious teasing touch stopped, his breathing harsh and uneven as he wondered if his whimpering – his words had ended the game already.

He screamed with the sudden sharp, punishing sensation of teeth digging into the sensitive tendon between neck and shoulder. The surprised scream became a desperate, wanton noises as soft lips settled next to the teeth and the mouth began to suck – hard – until he new the mark would be dark purple against his skin.

“Oh, God, Please,” he muttered, trying to arch up, but unable to do anything but lay trembling on the bed.

“Hmmm,” the voice considered as he lay dazed. “I think…” And with a few swift maneuvers and adjustments to knots, he lay still bound, restraints rubbing almost painfully in this new position with his ass in the air, a pillow beneath his hips, and his face pressed into the mattress.

‘Spreader bar,’ he speculated fuzzily as he tried to move his legs and was smacked in the ass for his trouble. The movement caused him to gasp as he felt something hard and almost painfully cold bump up against him. Whimpering at the burn and stretch as the smooth toy was pushed inside, it still wasn’t enough. His muscles were trembling with strain, cock leaking and still untouched as he was fucked. Slowly.

“Oh, God.” The cold plastic or metal was hard and long and purposely angled, but not enough. The itch and tingle under his skin caused muscles to tighten, wanting more, needing more.

Tsking, the owner of that husky voice tapped the based of the toy once, twice, and he moaned as it vibrated within him, maddeningly close to his prostate. He knew he was babbling now – incoherent and completely gone – his struggle for control of himself having melted away with the sweet agony that dragged along the inside of his skin like nails, spiraling and shivering to break away, to break down, to break.

He didn’t know how long he rode the edge. His skin ached everywhere with need and lust, and Christ on a stick he needed to come. Whimpering both in protest and gratitude as the vibrating toy was removed, a tortured sound escaped him as something bigger, warm and slick slid inside – hard and swift and almost painful until he felt the other man’s balls slap dirtily against his ass.

“Please.” There was a grunt before the familiar weight behind him began to move – slow and uneven at first, just to fuck with him even more. When the rhythm became unbearable, a scream ripped its way from his throat and then – slamming, slapping, harsh wet sounds of flesh against flesh. Fingers twisting in his hair, teeth biting and mouth sucking along his spine and shoulders. Nasty sounding groans and grunts and growls until he finally felt his cock released from its restraint, the snap of the cockring coming undone almost too loud in his ears.

“C’mon,” came the harsh breathless growl in his ear, and the world froze – shimmered in the darkness before a painful flood of pleasure ripped through him, shredding and undoing all last vestiges of control and sense of self until he cried out hoarsely, his body milking the cock inside him as he felt the warm fluid push up further – nearly too far. Almost pained whimpers and his own disappearing voice were all he heard as the darkness swallowed him whole – he scrabbled tiredly in vain before falling and trusting that he would be caught.

*~*~*

He awoke slowly, instinctively flexing his muscles and relishing in the ache and the fact that he’d finally rested. After two weeks of almost no rest, he had slept. He felt lighter, as if the sadness seeping into him had been abated. Stretching under the warm covers, he arched his back, heard it pop as he hissed softly. He’d been well used. Eyes still closed, he burrowed back under the covers, closer to his lover and sighed happily.

“Morning,” came the soft greeting, breath ghosting along his shoulder.

“Mmph,” he answered intelligently, nuzzling the soft skin of the older man’s neck.

“Speed?” H asked quietly, so much meaning and worry imbued into that one word.

“Speed’s not here at the moment. Please leave a message,” he managed to mumble into soft skin, lips catching and skittering over the pale, freckled shoulder.

Chuckling softly, Horatio ran a hand over bare skin before trying again. “Tim. Why’d you let it get so bad?”

The younger man shifted uncomfortably before his hushed confession. “I don’t like being weak.”

Strong arms surrounded him and pulled him even closer as he squirmed. “Hey. It’s not weakness. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Every single person needs to let go. That includes you and your perfect ass.”

A smirk played over the younger man’s face as he turned, brown eyes blinking up to look at blue. “Perfect, huh?”

“Delicious,” the redhead purred before placing an almost chaste kiss on lips still slightly swollen.

“Thanks,” came the whispered response.

“Rest.” Lips to temple and the new, raw mark on his shoulder

*~*~*

Tim settled cautiously down on the couch as Horatio brought him his morning coffee, smiling in loose pajama pants, a fading mark on his own pale shoulder and nothing else. Settling next to his lover, the redhead drew him close and flipped open the book he’d left there the night before.

Sighing softly, Tim concentrated on the slow, rhythmic beat of the older man’s heart, the soft morning light, and the sound of the waves rushing in from the open sliding doors. The warmth at his side and the comforting sounds of the ocean made everything seem almost peaceful.

Relaxed in the morning sun with his lover, he wished he could remain there forever. It was more than he’d ever thought possible, and every moment like this made life more than just bearable. It made life what it always should be - amazingly surprising and wondrous.


End file.
